


Double Double Demon in Trouble

by Supergeek21



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Saves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Comedy, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Being a Demon (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Flashbacks, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Male-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Medieval, Minimally Researched History, Post-Armageddon, Post-Canon, The Arrangement, Witch Trials, Witchcraft, crowley uses all the pronouns, excessive use of footnotes, trickety-boo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27315061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Supergeek21/pseuds/Supergeek21
Summary: Joining the Tadfield crew for a Halloween party Aziraphale and Crowley reminisce about some of their past misadventures, including the time Crowley was accused of witchcraft in Medieval England and needed an angel to save him.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 93
Collections: Trick-Or-Treat!





	Double Double Demon in Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! This was written incredibly hastily in the last few days in order to get it up on time, but I did it! (just please forgive any typos and let me know if there are any egregious ones as this story has not been beta-ed) I've always loved the head canon that Aziraphale has saved Crowley almost as much as Crowley has saved him, and the idea that the boys entertain Newt and Anathema with their stories of the shenanigans through time so here is one version of both such events. 
> 
> I did very little historical research on this, but I do owe a big thanks to the members of the Scribbling Vaguely Downwards and the Ineffable Husbands- Fanfictions Reader and Writers AO3 groups on Facebook who helped me come up with ways Crowley could be accused of witchcraft, as well as a shoutout to [OV_Fanarts](https://instagram.com/ov_fanarts?igshid=jmsjf4jw6g7f) whose Monster Omens comic inspired Aziraphale and Crowley's costumes. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The Halloween party was already in full swing when the Bentley pulled up to Jasmine Cottage on the outskirts of Tadfield.

Jack-o-lanterns carved with varying levels of skill lined the path from the road to the house and cast a whimsical orange glow on the picket fence and the surrounding garden. Small cloth ghosts blew in the gentle breeze from the branches of a tree and a plastic skeleton rattled against the front door.

“Anathema certainly went all out didn’t she, Darling?” Aziraphale commented as Crowley closed the door of the car behind him.

“Certainly did,” the demon agreed, taking in the cottage’s décor. “Bit on the kitschy side, but I respect her enthusiasm.”

Aziraphale smiled and held out a (currently clawed) hand to the demon, who took it with a flash of fang, stroking his thumb gently over the soft fur on the back of his angel’s hand.

Aziraphale giggled. “You know that tickles, Dear,” he said, giving Crowley a playful shove.

“Well whose fault is that?” Crowley quipped, turning his uncovered yellow eyes to take in Aziraphale in all his costumed glory, and thinking that Anathema wasn’t the only one who had gone ‘all out.’ “I can’t help that you made yourself extra soft tonight.”

Aziraphale pouted, the fluffy white ears poking out of his bond curls practically drooping. “I thought my werewolf costume was rather impressive.”

“It is, Angel, absolutely,” Crowley said. “It just also happens to make you look completely adorable.”

The furry white tail protruding through the seat of Aziraphale’s trousers twitched and Crowley laughed.

“Adorable in the scariest way possible of course,” he added. “You know me, big spooky fan.”

“Yes, well,” the angel said with a sniff, his make-up covered nose scrunching slightly. “You look rather dashing yourself.”

Crowley grinned. His vampire costume had been extremely easy to put together, requiring little more than an afternoon digging into the pocket dimension in his closet. He was currently dressed in a black suit he’d last worn in the Victorian era, complete with an embroidered red waistcoat and cravat which stood out starkly against his black shirt. The only alteration he’d made to his corporation beyond a black manicure and an application of extra fair foundation[1] was allowing his canine teeth to grow out to their full serpentine length so they poked over his lower lip even with his mouth closed.

Aziraphale on the other hand had pulled out all the stops.[2] He’d allowed his sideburns and a light scruff of beard to grow out and while he hadn’t bothered to change his suit, he had miracle his hands to look more wolfish and manifested the canine ears and tail as well as his own smaller fangs. It filled Crowley with the strange urge to pat him on the head and run his fingers through his soft curls.[3]

“Thankssss,” he hissed through his fangs.

Aziraphale leaned up on his toes to plant a chaste kiss on the demon’s lips. A low growl escaped Crowley, but before he could escalate the situation too much he was interrupted by the sounds of a dog’s barking and children’s laughter, as Adam, Pepper, Wensleydale, and Brian came running around the corner of the house accompanied by one disturbingly playful hellhound.

Aziraphale quickly backed away[4] and straightened his already impeccably neat bowtie.

“I knew you two were out here,” Adam declared, immensely confident for a 13-year-old boy wearing a blue and white checkered dress and bright red trainers. “I heard the car. We were wondering what was taking so long.”

“Yes, of course, just helping Crowley fix his cravat,” Aziraphale lied. He cleared his throat nervously under the former-antichrist’s knowing smirk. “All set now, Dear,” he said to Crowley, whose own smirk was almost as cheeky as Adam’s. “Happy Halloween children,” he added to the group. “I very much like your costumes.”

“Thanks!” Pepper said enthusiastically, the shaggy lion’s mane around her face rustling as she stepped forward. “They said I should be Dorothy, but I told him that was sexist and it made more sense for him to do it since he’s the one with Dog.”

“I don’t mind it this way,” Adam said, defensively, clicking the heels of his shoes together. “I just thought I’d offer the girl costume to you first.”

Crowley took in the Them as a whole for the first time, finally sufficiently distracted from Aziraphale’s fluff to appreciate Wensleydale’s baggy clothes, leaking straw colored yarn and Brian’s silver, robot-like ensemble. _The Wizard of Oz_ _cast,_ he realized. _Pretty appropriate._

“And that’s the point,” Pepper said with a roll of her eyes.

“Well, anyway, you all look simply smashing,” Aziraphale said enthusiastically before he proceeded to do a clumsy bit of sleight of hand, producing four large chocolate bars from the sleeve of his jacket[5] and handing one to each of the children, who were polite enough to look impressed.[6]

“Well come on then, everybody else is in the back,” Adam said with a gesture to the back garden.

“Everybody else” it turned out entailed Anathema and Newt, Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy,[7] and Pepper’s mother, who was dressed like a forest elf and appeared to be deep in conversation with the former medium.

“Aziraphale, Crowley!” Anathema called, waving them over to where she stood behind a table of refreshments.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but laugh as he took in her costume: a white flowing dress with large feathery white wings and a gold wire halo perched on her head. The finishing touch was a tartan scarf wrapped tightly around her neck against the chill of the night.[8]

“You look positively Divine, my Dear,” he gushed, as the witch’s eyes popped slightly behind her glasses when she saw what she’d first assumed to be a prosthetic tail wag back and forth, absently smacking Crowley repeatedly in the arm.

“If you like this, wait ‘til you see my partner in crime,” she said with a nod towards a small firepit, where Newt was crouched struggling with a Firestarter.

Newt, apparently realizing he was being talked about, looked up from the pitiful excuse for a bonfire and waved. He was dressed in a black shirt and trousers with a red tie, a pair of black wings to match Anathema’s were attached to his back and a small cartoonish pair of red horns sat nestled in his dark curls, behind a pair of black sunglasses he had pushed up to the top of his head.

Crowley cackled.

“Not bad Pulsifer,” he said fondly as he sauntered over to the firepit. “You look like a better demon than a witchfinder at any rate. No self-respecting witchfinder should struggle this much to start a fire.”

Newt smiled sheepishly and Crowley snapped his fingers, sending a shower of sparks onto the kindling and setting it immediately ablaze.

“Yeah, well, I only ever needed to find one witch, didn’t I?” Newt laughed.

“Probably another thing to chalk up to ineffability,” Aziraphale answered him with a grin. “You look absolutely adorable together, by the way.”

“You two look pretty good yourselves,” Newt said, giving Crowley’s outfit an admiring look. “You make a very convincing vampire.”

Crowley laughed. “Well I’d better, considering how many times I’ve been called one.”

Anathema gasped as she and Aziraphale stepped closer to he now roaring fire, wine glasses in hand for themselves and their partners. “You’ve been mistaken for a vampire?”

“Oh yes, we both have,” Aziraphale said matter-of-factly. “Many times, some more recent than you might think.[9] When you don’t age long enough superstitious people start to say all sorts of things about you.”

“The good thing about being taken for a vampire though is people are usually too scared of you to try doing anything to you,” Crowley added.

“Yes, I seem to recall you leaning into that advantage to play on people’s superstitions once or twice,” Aziraphale teased. “Scared that poor village in Romania out of their wits…”

“Hey, they had it coming, Angel!” Crowley retorted.[10] “And it’s not like you never let people believe you were an otherworldly creature when it suited you, Mr. Harvest god.”

“Says the gorgon!” Aziraphale gasped in exasperation.

Anathema and Newt exchanged an amused glance as the pair continued to bicker, both knowing they had once again come across a gold mine of speculative conversation that would last the two of them at least a week.[11]

“Is there any monster you two haven’t posed as?” Wensleydale asked, the ridiculous conversation having draw the children’s attention from their sacks of candy.

The two man-shaped beings seemed to remember they weren’t alone then and snapped out of their argument.[12]

Crowley blushed, somewhat embarrassed he’d forgotten himself in front of the humans. “Well, not a monster per say, but I never intentionally lead anyone to believe I was a witch.”

“Not that it stopped you from getting accused,” Aziraphale said smugly.

“Yeah, well, that’s true.”

“Really?!” Pepper asked excitedly.

“Chill out, kids, it wasn’t THAT exciting,” Crowley scoffed.

“I don’t know. It was a bit of a thrill…”

“You were there too?” Adam asked.

“Well someone had to save him, didn’t they?” Aziraphale replied, primly and Crowley hid his face in his hands.

“Oh I HAVE to hear this,” Anathema laughed and Crowley groaned.

“Alright, fine, but I get to tell it,” the demon grumbled. “He always mixes up the details.”

Aziraphale let out a dramatic huff that was belied by the cheeky grin spreading across his lips. It was obvious to anyone paying attention he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

“Alright,” Crowley began, taking a deep swig of wine. “Here’s what happened…”

\----------------------------------——----

**Rural England, Mid-15 th Century **

Crowley was between assignments. Not that Hell had been particularly watchful over his activities as of late beyond telling him a general area to be in, a fact that had helped him get Aziraphale to agree to the Arrangement a few centuries back. The deal had been advantageous, but had so far not yielded quite as much time spent with the angel as Crowley might have hoped going in. He hadn’t seen Aziraphale in twenty years, and he vaguely wondered what sort of assignment the angel might be off on. _Has to be more interesting than this,_ Crowley thought as he pulled on his thin gown and prepared to go out to the garden.

After a dismal last century Crowley had decided to recycle an old character and have some fun sewing foment. His second run as The Black Knight hadn’t been quite as successful as the first, but he’d been living comfortably, defending villagers from marauders and scaring other villages on behalf of the local lord. It had been going well. His Earthly boss was a complete madman, but he seemed to like Crowley and it had given him a good excuse to be demonic without having to come up with all the schemes himself.

It had all been going swimmingly in fact until quite abruptly it wasn’t. The lord he worked for had a teenage daughter, Elizabeth,[13] who he was determined to marry off now that she was of age. Of course, Crowley was unaware of this plan until he was invited to dine at the Lord’s manor one night and the man announced he wanted Crowley to marry the girl.

Crowley had been lucky he hadn’t discorporated he choked so severely on his wine.

Despite the reputation he’d built[14] as a ruthless warrior and cruel extortionist, or maybe because of it, the Lord was set on this match. Apparently exchanging pleasantries with Elizabeth and encouraging her reading habit had been seen and interpreted as romantic interest.

It wasn’t. Crowley was not opposed to affairs with humans[15] but he was not doing this. He was a demon not a monster.[16] The girl had done nothing to deserve this and he’d be blessed if he let her be damned by being tied to him.[17]

“Really m’lord, shouldn’t you find someone closer to her own age?” he’d tried arguing. “Isn’t some other royal looking to fob off their son and create an alliance?”

“Nonsense!” the man bellowed, his rotund gut bouncing as he shouted. “I don’t trust my neighbors with my daughter, but you have been nothing but a loyal servant. I know you’re trustworthy with her safety.”

This had sealed it. The Black Knight had to die.

It had taken a bit of work, but over the next two weeks Crowley, with the conspiratorial help of Thomas the stable boy managed to slip away enough times to create the rumor of a dreadful dragon[18] tormenting travelers in the nearby forest.[19]

The night before he was due to ride out to fight the monster he drugged his squire’s drink to ensure he could not accompany him and arranged to ride out with Thomas, who was to swear he’d been killed.

In one last act to create trouble in the role, Crowley had a chat with his ‘fiancée’ and convinced her to run away with the boy she loved.[20]

“I know your father would not approve,” he said conspiratorially to her, “but if anything should happen to me tomorrow, I wish you would not mourn, but instead follow your heart... I’ll make sure nothing happens to Thomas should he need to accompany me.”

He gave her a meaningful look from behind his tinted lenses and an expression of understanding passed over her face with a pleased smile.

“I understand, good Sir,” she said softly. “I and wish you the best of fortunes on your quest.” She graced his cheek with a sweet, chaste kiss and Crowley smiled.

That had been six months ago and he’d since been enjoying his leisure time in a neighboring village.[21]

He probably should have been paying more attention to his appearances as a human in retrospect.

In order to more fully avoid recognition as the Black Knight, Crowley had taken on the appearance of a woman, growing his red hair out below his shoulders and trading in his armor for a dress. He was claiming to be a widow and had miracled the owner of the house he’d moved into to believe he’d been left the right to the property by the previous, deceased, occupant. It had seemed to work.

Between her husband and the previous tenant of the house, she seemed to have been left some money, so no one questioned Madame Ashtoreth Crowley’s role running the house alone. At least not at first.

The neighbors thought she was a little odd perhaps, and an occasional mention of her dear, departed husband, usually made people feel too sorry for poor Ashtoreth to question anything. For a few month anyway.

Crowley realized he’d made a mistake when his neighbor Karina started giving his herb garden a suspicious look. He’d never thought much about what he was doing with the plants, he kept them watered as best he could given the dry conditions this year, mixed with his usual demonic gardening combination of magic and threats and the plants had thrived. It didn’t dawn on him that other people’s crops had been drying out and dying.

Not until Karina started asking questions anyway.

“Good morning Ashtoreth,” Karina said with a sickly, sweet smile Crowley could have spotted as a lie even if he weren’t a demon, as he stepped out to trim the plants.

“Good morning Karina,” he said, completely polite. “How are you today?”

“Very well,” she said pleasantly, eying the rosemary Crowley was currently snipping back. “Not as well as I’d say you are, with the fortunate you seem to have with your garden.”

Crowley looked from the plant to the woman and felt the waves of envy and malice flowing off her.

“Oh yes,” he said casually, flipping his long braid over his shoulder. “I’ve been quite lucky I should say. If you were to need anything, I could let you have a few cuttings.”

“Oh no, no!” Karina retorted, stepping back as if frightened. “Just commenting. I’ll leave you to your work. Good day.”

“Good day,” Crowley replied.

_That was a thing,_ he thought idly. _Wasn’t even trying and I’m inspiring deadly sins in her._ He shrugged. “Oh well,” he said to himself. He wasn’t fond of Karina anyway. Another soul for Hell would look good on his record if she kept up this behavior.

It was another week before Crowley caught another strange look walking down the main street through town. A woman flinched away from him and whispered something to her husband.

A normal human might not have picked it up, but Crowley’s magically enhanced sense heard the word ‘witch’ quite clearly.

“Shit,” he muttered. Apparently, he was arousing suspicions.

Crowley sent word to Hell that night.[22]

_“My Lord Dagon,_

_I understand I have been instructed to remain in the region sewing discord and foment. I have had many successes including spreading paranoia and fear of a dragon in the local woods and starting a feud between two local lords over the disappearance of one’s young daughter._

_However, I have reason to believe the locals are catching on to my infernal nature. I am therefore requesting an immediate transfer to a further region, preferably somewhere in continental Europe._

_Your humble servant,_

_Crowley, Serpent of Eden.”_

Sealing the letter, he snapped his fingers with a shower of sparks and the flames in the fireplace sparked blue. He threw the letter into the blaze and it disappeared in a flash. Crowley sighed.

Hopefully, management would answer promptly, but he knew it was unlikely. Dagon’s experimental filing system last century had still not had all the bugs worked out of it.[23] He supposed he’d just have to lay low for a while.

Crowley waited three days before leaving the house again, when he realized that never leaving the house in and of itself was starting to look suspicious.

 _People will notice if you’re never seen going out again,_ he told himself before slipping on his glasses.

He hadn’t gotten far when he was stopped by a man’s voice behind him.

“Why hello Ms. Ashtoreth, it’s been a while.”

Crowley cringed. Daniel. The dim-witted young man from the farm up the road. He was always pleasant, but Crowley could sense the lust rolling off him from the moment they met.[24]

“Hello, master Daniel,” he said, not bothering to turn around.

“May I have a word with you?” the pale, brown-haired boy asked. He sounded nervous and Crowley decided to humor him. He might not be the brightest candle in the box, but he was harmless.

“Of course.”

Daniel sidled up to him[25] and continued in a low voice. “You know Ms. Ashtoreth, I heard some people in town saying things about you yesterday… things that could get you in real trouble.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Crowley huffed.

“Not that I believe it for a moment,” Daniel added, quickly. “But you know I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

“Well I appreciate that, but I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, but you don’t have to you know,” Daniel replied, obviously trying to be suave, and missing the mark.

At just twenty years old the boy was practically a child, even by Ashtoreth’s standards, let alone Crowley’s 6000 years.

Crowley’s stunned silence lead Daniel to continue. “What I mean to say is, maybe folks might not be so suspicious of you if you had a respectable husband to look after you and defend your honor.”

Crowley actually snorted at that.

“Are you asking for my hand?” he blurted out. _How do I manage to attract every nut in the land?_ He added to himself.

“I suppose I am,” the boy said. “I mean, you are very lovely and you’re still of child-bearing age. It’s not right that you should be on your own… the object of rumors.”

Crowley schooled his face into something less like a laugh and stared the boy down.

“I appreciate your sentiment but I’m just fine on my own,” he said. “I like my independence. You’re a nice boy, quit following me around and find a girl your own age.”

Crowley took his leave at that, still trying to swallow back laughter and wishing to Satan Dagon would get a move on and send him some new orders.

Crowley was in the garden when word finally arrived from Hell.

It was just before sundown and at first he didn’t even notice he had company. There was no rumble, no flash, no belch of hellfire, just a sudden whiff of brimstone and a sinister voice calling “Crow-ley.” 

He turned around, looking for the source of the voice.

“Crow-ley!” it called again.

“Duke Hastur? Is that you?” he asked cautiously.

“Of course, it is snake!” Hastur’s voice snapped, he was obviously growing impatient.

“Where are you?”

“Down here,” the duke of Hell snarled. “If I was any closer, I’d be looking up your bloody dress!”

Crowley jumped and looked down, finally spotting the pale, grubby toad sitting in the midst of the cabbages.

“Sorry. Didn’t see you down there, Sir,” Crowley hissed. As much as he hated to show respect to Hastur, he knew he couldn’t afford to offend anyone who could slow down this transfer. Between nosy Karina and all her gossip and Daniel the dunce’s continued romantic pursuits, he needed to get out of this country.

“That’s the point isn’t it?” Hastur croaked. “Thought you said you were under suspicions. Unless you LIED to us.”

“No, no, you’re right!” Crowley quickly backtracked. “Smart thinking staying a toad. Please just tell me I’ve got new orders!”

“You’re free to go to the continent,” Hastur confirmed. “They want you to spread some corruption in the clergy.”

“I can do that,” Crowley said with a nod. _That’ll be no trouble at all._

“Before you go though Dagon wants you to prove you’re up to the task,” Hastur interjected. “Cause some scandal for the priest here and then get out.”

Crowley groaned. “It’s always something. Why is there always a catch?”

“Because it’s Hell Crowley, it’s not supposed to be easy.”

“Yeah alright,” Crowley agreed. “Give me a day or two to figure it out. Hail Satan.”

Hastur hopped.[26] “Hail Satan,” he croaked before vanishing into the ground in a pool of molten Earth.

Crowley breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have if he’d realized the whole interaction had been observed.

Crowley fell asleep that night still concocting his plan to tempt the priest and how to do it without entering church grounds.[27]

Seduction was possible, although it was harder to get caught with that and get away. Bribery was always good, or perhaps he could convince him to steal money from the tithings. That was always a good one. The tricky part was getting him alone. Maybe he could enlist the help of some local rats to frighten the old man out of the church one night so he could corner him.

 _That could work…_ he thought. Rats, he had discovered, could be quite resourceful minions.

He didn’t have time to fine tune the plan before he drifted to sleep.

Crowley was awakened by an urgent banging on the door and startled up with a hiss.

“Wassat?!” he snapped drowsily, confused and somewhat perturbed to have been so rudely woken up.[28] It wasn’t even dawn!

The knocking sounded again, and Crowley stood up and sauntered to the door.

“What is--?” he was cut off midsentence by a harried looking Daniel who pushed his way inside.

“They’re going to accuse you of witchcraft!” the boy spat.

“Wot?” Crowley asked.

“Karina and some of the others! She said she saw you talking to a toad in the garden! Said she smelled the fires of Hell and heard you say you’d corrupt Father Joseph!”

Crowley’s unnecessary heart stopped beating for a moment.

_Shit! Fucking Hastur! Can’t even do subtlety right!_

“That’s ridiculous! Why would a toad be talking about corrupting a priest?” Crowley tried to deflect

“I don’t rightly know,” Daniel answered. “His hands were shaking and Crowley noticed he had a wooden rosary clasped in one of them. “But they’re witches’ familiars and she swears she saw you speak to it last night. They’ll be here any minute! Your only chance is to go to church right now and confess that a demon came to you unbidden. If you tell the and let Father bless you to cast out any evil, they can’t say your soul has been compromised!”

Crowley’s eyes went wide. Blessings usually involved Holy Water…

“You’re over-reacting,” he protested, his own nervousness seeping through into his voice. “I’ve done nothing wrong. She has no proof.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Daniel argued. “Come with me.”

The boy grabbed Crowley’s arm in a surprisingly firm grip. Unfortunately for Crowley Daniel had chosen to use the hand carrying the rosary and it was just blessed enough to diminish the use of his demonic strength in that arm.

Crowley, completely startled by this development, found himself being unceremoniously lead down the street towards the center of town and the church.

His mind was reeling. He couldn’t let himself get blessed! He didn’t want to go into the church, but pain he could tolerate, Holy Water he could not.

As the gate to the churchyard came into view, Crowley began to struggle in earnest. “Let me go Daniel this is ridiculous!” he shouted, digging his heels into the dirt and pulling back against the boy’s arm with all his might.

Daniel jerked to a stop. “If you’ve done nothing wrong, you have nothing to fear,” he said.

_Well that’s the problem isn’t it?_ A snide voice in the back of Crowley’s head snapped, as the demon continued to struggle.

Daniel gave Crowley’s arm another firm tug and Crowley resisted, his whole body jerking back and forth.

“Releassse me!” he snarled, the ‘s’ sound escaping in more of a hiss than he would have liked.

Whether a flash of his true nature had shown through to the boy or he was just startled by the rage and strength being displayed by the woman was unclear, but Daniel’s grip faltered and Crowley suddenly stumbled backwards. Unable to catch his balance quickly enough on his snakelike limbs, the demon toppled back over the fence into the churchyard, his glasses falling off his face with the impact and skittering across the ground, revealing his serpentine eyes.

A passerby let out a high-pitched scream.

Crowley was in too much discomfort from the burn of finding himself lying on holy ground to put up much of a fight as he was seized.

Crowley supposed as he sat in his cell under the eye of two guards armed with swords and some holy relic[29] that he was still lucky he’d avoided the Holy Water blessing, but not by much.

Daniel, apparently not as stupid as he had assumed, had noticed the effect of the rosary on the demon and his hands were now chained conventionally and with a chain of the prayer beads. Crowley had quickly realized this didn’t do much to inhibit his power, but it did reduce his physical strength, which he would likely need to fight his way out of this.

He’d also quickly realized there were a lot of things that got you accused of witchcraft these days beyond just talking to toads and magically enhancing your herb garden.

In the interrogations he’d endured over the past week, he’d been accused of corrupting another villager’s daughter by talking to her about money, consorting with evil spirits,[30] cursing a man’s horse,[31] withering farmer Johnson’s wheat crop,[32] possessing knowledge forbidden to a woman,[33] and of course possessing the “marks of the Devil.”[34]

Even Daniel had shown up to accuse him of ‘bewitcing him with feelings of lust’ to which Crowley had cackled.

“Believe me, if I’d wanted to seduce you, we’d be in bed right now instead of here,” he’d quipped with an unsettling wink.[35]

Now as he sat on the ducking stool suspended over the stream, listening to the judge prattle on about sin he considered his options. Getting discorporated was a considerable bother and could keep him in Hell for years, but he wasn’t sure he could avoid it. He didn’t need to breathe of course, so drowning wasn’t really a risk, but if he survived that was proof positive that he was a ‘witch’ according to these blithering idiots. Not that he really cared if they thought that but considering it would likely lead to being burned at the stake, it could be problematic since he was fireproof and definitely wouldn’t die. After that he had no idea what would happen. They might hang or behead him, which would be a quicker and easier discorporation than allowing himself to drown, but on the other hand if they somehow managed to jump to the right conclusion that he was a demon the Holy Water might come out to exercise him and he’d be rightly fucked.

He sighed. _No good way out of this one…_

He heard the priest say “may God have mercy on this woman’s soul,” and he snorted.

_Fat chance._

The judge moved to release the stool into the water and Crowley braced himself for the icy plunge[36] when suddenly a horse whinnied and hoofbeats charged into the assembled crowd.

“Stop this this instant!” a familiar voice cried.

Crowley jolted and twisted his head around to see a knight in shining silver armor and fur-lined cape dismount from a white horse, gold-hilted broadsword drawn.

If he hadn’t been tied to a chair Crowley might have swooned.

_Aziraphale!_

“What authority do you have, Sir Knight to stop us trying this witch?” the judge, a gaunt, balding man who smelt of ale and old meat asked sanctimoniously.

Crowley saw Aziraphale remove his helmet and his white-blond curls, slightly longer now than usual, shined in the early morning sun, almost as bright as his armor had.

“I am Sir Aziraphale of the Court of King Henry,” the angel answered with an air of righteousness so profound it cowed even the pompous judge. “I was sent to slay a dragon I was told killed my rival the Black Knight when I heard rumors of a woman being wrongfully persecuted for witchcraft.”

For the first time in days Crowley wondered if escape might actually be possible, now that Aziraphale was there.

“She bares the marks of the Devil!” a man shouted from the crowd, “how would you know she is innocent.”

Aziraphale’s bravado seemed to waiver slightly, but he pressed on.

“Ah. Yes. Well, you see, it is because… I had a vision from the Almighty,” he blurted out, the idea obviously having just come to him. “Yes! As I was praying last night for the soul of the unfortunate woman I heard the rumors about, an angel appeared to me and said ‘Aziraphale, this woman has a special role in the Lord’s Ineffable Plan. You must see past her appearance and stop harm from coming to her for if she is executed, misfortune will befall the land, as she is needed in the court of the king.”

Crowley looked incredulously at the angel he had come to think of as his best friend, and managed to catch his eye. Aziraphale raised a brow at him as if to ask _Do you have a better plan?_ And Crowley scoffed.

_He is such a rubbish liar,_ he thought dismally.

“Blasphemy!” a man shouted, charging at Aziraphale with a blade drawn. Aziraphale turned with inhuman speed and blocked the blow with his sword, knocking the man’s knife to the ground. Crowley saw a hint of his angelic light shine through, but it might have been a trick of the sun. If he had to guess he wasn’t the only one who saw it because the crowd had gone silent.

The demon turned to look at the at the judge and minister to see if they were impressed by any of this when he felt the tingle of a small miracle ripple through the air. The face of the judge softened mildly and if Crowley had to guess he’d have said the man was suffering from a slight case of angelic hypnosis.

_Clever Angel…_

“Very well, but if she is innocent as you say, why did she resist setting foot in our church?” Father Joseph asked.

Aziraphale looked blankly from the clergyman to Crowley and it was the demon’s turn to sputter for an excuse.

“Be-because of the toad!” he said. “You heard Madame Karina’s testimony; the evil toad wanted me to corrupt you! I thought by setting foot in the church I would be playing into the Devil’s hands.”

Crowley looked hopefully at his prosecutors. He was fairly pleased with that impromptu lie.

“This is all nonsense,” someone[37] shouted. “Throw her in the water!”

Aziraphale rounded on the source of the outcry, then suddenly stopped and perked up as if struck by an idea.

“Yes!” he said suddenly. “Go ahead.” He caught Crowley’s eye again with a look the demon thought was asking him for trust.[38] “Dip her in the stream and if she emerges safely, it is surely the will of God. I would stake my good name as a knight of the divinely appointed king.

Crowley nodded slowly and the judge and priest exchanged a meaningful look before beckoning Aziraphale forward to stand with them. Crowley felt a sudden burst of warmth flow over him as the angel’s hand brushed gently against the sleeve of his dress and he realized he’d been touched by a minor miracle when his body hit the water and he wasn’t instantly frozen by the harsh temperatures.

He waited for what felt like an eternity under the rushing stream, consciously working not to breathe. Then suddenly he was being hoisted back out and he drew in a breathe[39] when he opened his eyes and saw Aziraphale’s concerned face looking down at him.

“She lives!” Father Joseph declared.

A shocked murmur went through the crowd and Aziraphale smiled somewhat smugly.

“You see, she has been spared by Heaven.” The angel raised his sword and cut off the bonds from Crowley’s wrists before helping him to his feet and onto the horse.[40]

As soon as they were out of town Crowley snapped his fingers, drying his clothes.

“I suppose I owe you one, Angel,” he said. “I can’t believe they bought all that.”

Aziraphale huffed. “It was mostly true,” he said. “I just left out the part that the angel who told me you were in anger was my own senses. Your infernal energy was all over the area. I am correct in assuming You were the dragon in the woods, then?”

“Yup,” Crowley said with a laugh. “Needed a dramatic death to get out of an arranged marriage.”

Crowley didn’t need to see Aziraphale to know he was rolling his eyes. “Ridiculous serpent.”

“Just having a spot of fun,” he replied with a shrug.

“What about you? When did the White Knight come back?”

“I was told to keep an eye on the military situation in England and France,” Aziraphale said. “Seemed easiest to do it from inside the court.”

Crowley nodded. “She doesn’t really tell them who is meant to rule these days does She?” he asked with a glance upwards.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Of course not. Though I am supposed to report back on which side is more righteous in this conflict in case we have to back one or the other. Mostly though, it’s like today and it’s just a good way to make humans listen to me.”

Crowley laughed. “You’re really quite devious when want to be aren’t you, Angel? Feel like I’ve had an impact on you.”

“No more than I suspect, I’ve had on you,” he said. “So, I suppose we’re even.”

Crowley shrugged. “Guess the Arrangement is working then.”

The horse jolted and he leaned back subtly against Aziraphale to hold himself on the saddle.

\---------------------------------------------

**Present Day**

“So, there you have it,” Crowley said. “I told Dagon that I’d tempted a priest into nearly committing murder which didn’t really get a great reaction but it was enough for me to get my transfer.”

“And I told Heaven that the miracles were to save a woman who was not a witch,” Aziraphale added. “Which was theoretically true… he wasn’t a witch.”

Anathema was struggling to hold back a beaming smile. “So you saved him from execution as a literal **knight in shining armor** and it still took you over 500 years and the near end of the world to get together?” she teased.

“Ngk!” Crowley said with a cringe. “Even then I just sort of blurted it out by accident,” he admitted.

Pepper rolled her eyes to Brian and Wensleydale and Adam laughed.

“I could have helped you if I’d known,” he said. “I saw how you felt about each other as soon as I looked at you, I just assumed you both already knew.”

“You gave them too much credit,” Anathema laughed.

“Yes, yes, we’re oblivious, at least it all worked out in the end though,” Crowley said, quickly trying to change the subject and downing the last of his wine. “You want me to tell you about the time Aziraphale didn’t realize a Japanese village thought he was a deity?” 

“YES!” Newt and all four of the children shouted simultaneously.

Aziraphale shot Crowley a faux-irritated look. “Foul fiend,” he muttered.

“You love me,” the demon responded with another flash of fangs.

“Indeed I do,” the angel replied, leaning in for a quick kiss. “But I get to correct you on the details of this story!”

Crowley laughed, as the group settled in for yet another tale and the children dug into their pile of treats with Dog cuddled up in Adam’s lap. “Fair enough.”

* * *

[1] It was difficult to find but there were shades that could make even Crowley look paler.

[2] Crowley suspected his recent embracing of Halloween had something to do with not being afraid of Heaven’s judgement anymore, but he’d never broached the subject with him.

[3] Even more so than usual.

[4] Much to Crowley’s disappointment

[5] Why he would bother using a miracle to keep them un-melted in his pocket but not to just conjure them from thin air Crowley would never understand but he wasn’t about to ruin his angel’s ‘fun’ on Halloween.

[6] Brian actually was.

[7] Tracy was dressed in a witch’s get up which might have been made from parts of her everyday wardrobe with an added hat, while Shadwell’s only concession to the holiday appeared to be donning an orange jumper.

[8] The same scarf he had gifted her the previous Christmas.

[9] A.Z. Fell & Co. Book Sellers had in fact no less than four yelp reviews which posited theories about the owner being a vampire or “something of the sort.”

[10] Newt momentarily considered asking for details about this story, but he found it best not to interrupt the supernatural couple once they got on a roll.

[11] Sometimes they asked about their friends’ long histories, other times they thought it was more fun to create their own theories and see which ones might come out to be true or not. Anathema’s proudest moment of this game so far had been accurately identifying them in several pieces of Renaissance art, while Newt’s had been identifying Crowley as the tempter in the desert.

[12] The sort of thing that more often than not evolved into foreplay.

[13] A charming girl Crowley had met several times: witty, kind, and utterly besotted with the stable boy, Thomas.

[14] Mostly falsely

[15] When under orders.

[16] He was pretty sure there was a distinction that made sense there.

[17] Not to mention his romantic interests lied entirely elsewhere.

[18] Being able to shapeshift into a gigantic serpent had its advantages.

[19] Thomas was about his height and provided him with an alibi wearing his armor and riding out while Crowley slipped off to the forest.

[20] Who would be in convenient possession of Crowley’s soon-to-be-thought-dead black horse. Thomas was always better with the beast than he was anyway. He didn’t consider it a loss.

[21] While still occasionally making time to terrify travelers as a dragon. He had a façade to keep up after all, and it was a fun way to break up the monotony of village life.

[22] In the form of a nauseatingly polite letter.

[23] Beelzebub had a strict no extermination policy.

[24] Sometimes it was annoying having that effect on people.

[25] Too close to be considered strictly appropriate.

[26] The toad equivalent of a nod.

[27] He’d need a much better reason to burn himself on consecrated ground than doing some unnecessary test for Hastur and Dagon!

[28] He’d been having a perfectly enjoyable dream too about dragon-ing it up in a lonely cave and a dashing, angelic explorer coming to thwart him, only to be seduced by his charms… well… that’s where it had been heading anyway. He hadn’t quite gotten to the best part yet.

[29] The demon was not sure if the thing had the power to hurt him or not but he didn’t want to risk finding out.

[30] He’d denied it of course, but that had been more or less true.

[31] That one was not true! It was not Crowley’s fault the _blessed_ beasts hated him on principle.

[32] “Why would I have wanted to do that?” he’d protested.

[33] His guess was as good as anyone’s as to what knowledge that was referring to, but he appreciated the bitter irony, at least.

[34] He couldn’t even argue with that one, he supposed. He’d been trying for centuries to take measures to hide his sigil tattoo and freakish snake eyes, though he did resent the inclusion of his ginger hair on the list of incriminating features.

[35]The stunt had almost definitely hurt his case in retrospect, but he couldn’t resist in the moment. The little shit had gotten him into this and was now desperately trying to cover his arse by accusing him.

[36] Whether or not he took in a lungful of water, no cold-blooded being would enjoy an autumn dip in an English river.

[37] Crowley thought it was Karina

[38] As if that was ever in question.

[39] Strictly out of habit, NOT awe

[40] Crowley absolutely did not squirm when the angel’s warm body swung into the saddle behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed this by leaving a comment or kudos! I'd love to hear from you. 
> 
> For any of my repeat readers, if you thought Crowley tied up about to plunge into water before being rescued felt vaguely familiar, I absolutely did get the idea for this rescue from Chapter 11 of Double-0 Omens (and your enthusiastic response to it)! I said at the time I assumed that flashback dream scene was inspired by a real rescue and presumably this is it. (Crowley just made it much cooler in his dream and added the sharks) Also I think this story happens in that same time line, just some time in the future when having parties is okay again and life is back to normal. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed your Hallo-weekend and this little story. 
> 
> If you want to see more of my writing please follow me as an author or on social media at [Tumblr](https://supergeek21.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/jessiemarie921/), or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/JessieMarie921) for updates on my other stories.


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